


Consent

by Cyanide_Kettle



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, alpha!Phil, ambiguously pre-Avengers, artificial heat, omega!Clint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-05 00:43:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1087559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyanide_Kettle/pseuds/Cyanide_Kettle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the time children can understand, they are taught: consent is everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A/B/O AU Headcanon Primer

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of people have issues with the lack of consent in Omegaverse AUs. I thought, how does one remove the squicky non-con and make things more enjoyable? How to make the dynamics somewhat logical for evolving? Cue late night feelschat and world building. It was a great chat; many thanks to you lovelies who helped me bounce ideas around. Thanks also go out to those who have written Omegaverse fic before me. It’s kind of a shared world, with inspiration coming from other authors. I hope you dear readers enjoy my version of things.
> 
> Warning: There is no actual non-con in this fic, but there is mention of it. Several discussions mention the word “rape” so if that might put you in a bad place, do skip this fic. That being said, I hope you do read and see what I’m trying to address. My hope is to address the issue in a reasonable way. If only our own society could get it.

Alphas and Omegas evolved after something happened to upset the population balance. That something is purposely vague, maybe it was a decline in fertile females or a disease or alien influence, but Omega males showed up as an extra gender to bear children. The population distribution of Alphas to Betas to Omegas may not hold up in the long term, but hey, comic book biology can allow it. I did several Punnett squares (aka Punnett Tesseracts) by hand to see how the genetics might work out. I decided that the dynamic is a gene that is sex-linked to the X chromosome, and that the Omega gene is the most dominant, then Beta, then Alpha as the least dominant. Human genetics is not as simple as pure dominant-recessive Mendelian genetics, but I went with that simplification for the purposes of this AU.

In this AU, male and female is not as important as A/B/O dynamic, so females don’t have as much restriction, sexism against them, or stigma as in our society. SHIELD is not an accurate representation of general attitudes toward A/B/O; it is more progressive, especially with the dynamics of its Director and Deputy Director. I went with mostly MCU canon, slipping in elements of comic canon that has become MCU-fandom. Pairings and marriages other than Alpha/Omega and Beta/Beta are accepted with varying degrees, the way same-sex marriage is differently accepted or defied in our society.

 

Character dynamics (not all characters mentioned in this fic, subject to change):

Alpha: Phil Coulson, Maria Hill, Pepper Potts, Steve Rogers, Melinda May, Skye

Beta: Bruce Banner (Hulk is a null result of an attempt to create an Alpha), Jasper Sitwell, Rhodey, Fitzsimmons, Jane Foster, Darcy Lewis

Omega: Clint Barton, Nick Fury, Tony Stark, Grant Ward

Beta-mimic: Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes

Thor and Loki (Asgardians and Jotuns) are null/non by Earth standards.

 

A primer on my version of the Omegaverse:

 

Alpha

Alphas have a knot near the base of their phallus. This knot becomes more pronounced during arousal, reaching its largest state during rut. Alpha instincts are to be dominant/protective. They go into rut every 6-8 months, lasting 2-4 days, during which the primary drive is to mate/knot, display, and compete. The Alpha Voice is a difficult to resist verbal/auditory ability that can be used on all dynamics. After a certain point the Alpha is incapable of higher reasoning, and must knot an Omega to resolve a rut. Historically, mated bonds between one Alpha and two or more Omegas were common, but this practice has declined since the Industrial Revolution. Female Alphas cannot become pregnant but can impregnate female Betas, male Omegas, and female Omegas. The female Alpha knot and phallus is a modified, retractable clitoris/nonfunctional uterus. Alphas make up approximately 10% of the population.

 

Beta

Betas are anatomically the same as “regular” humans. They evolved the ability to imitate Alpha and Omega pheromones, and can resolve a rut or heat hormonally and/or non-sexually. Betas can also induce heat or rut, and create a bond between any combination of dynamics. Beta instincts are for diplomatic resolution. Male Betas can impregnate female Betas, female Omegas, and male Omegas. Alpha-Beta-Omega mated triads are historically common, but have declined in prevalence since the Industrial Revolution. Betas make up the largest percentage of the population.

 

Omega

Omegas are the most fertile of the dynamics. They go into heat every 3-4 months, lasting 3-7 days, during which the drive is to be mounted/knotted, display, and make potential mates compete. After a certain point in heat, the individual is not capable of higher reasoning and must be knotted by an Alpha. The danger for insanity or death in unresolved heat is much higher for an Omega than unresolved rut is for an Alpha. Omega instincts are protective of home and family, which can manifest as aggression. Omegas have a bonding gland, usually situated on the right shoulder/neck junction, partially imbedded in the trapezius muscle. A partner biting the swollen gland triggers release of hormones that creates a mated and bonded couple. Male Omegas produce slick when aroused. Omegas can be impregnated by all dynamics except female Betas and female Omegas, although their fertility is greatest with Alphas. Omegas make up approximately 20% of the population.

 

Beta-mimics are roughly analogous to genderqueer. They present physically as Beta, but can reproduce Alpha and Omega pheromones to a much greater extent than typical Betas. Exceedingly rare, some of the few known Beta-mimics worked as spies. Mimics can use rudimentary forms of Alpha Voice. They can affect onset, duration, and intensity of heat and rut, as well as simulate both in themselves. Because of the rarity of Beta-mimics, their known capabilities are unproven and subject to urban myth.

 

Heat

During heat, the male Omega anatomy must prepare for the possibility of impregnation. A cloaca-type structure exists alongside the intestinal tract, which swells in size and produces slick. An Alpha knot stimulates nerves that trigger release of reproductive hormones. Male Omegas ovulate upon this stimulation from an Alpha knot. Female Omegas are at their most fertile when in heat, and often bear twins if they breed without contraceptives during this time. Heat cycles vary by individual, but are usually predictable within a few days of onset.

 

Rut

Behavior during rut can take multiple forms. Some Alphas become increasingly aggressive, while others adopt nesting behaviors. An Alpha may desire to pursue or lure potential mating partners. The knot becomes more pronounced during rut, and in some individuals may secrete fluid chemically similar to an Omega’s slick. Alphas may experience the impulse to mate with as many available partners as possible, or to pair exclusively with one partner. Physical closeness and cuddling during pre-rut reinforces emotional connections and stimulates the desire to bond. Proximity to an Omega in heat may trigger an Alpha’s rut outside of the regular cycle.

 

Mating Chase

Omegas have the power to choose their mates by prompting Alphas (and on occasion Betas) to pursue them in a mating chase. This chase allows the pursuer to prove their worthiness to mate and to “claim” the Omega in a public forum. A chase serves as prelude to a chemical/hormonal bonding between individuals. As in other species, both prospective partners display or rebuff advances to test the strength and fitness of the other (examples: male elk or peacock competing with other males, displaying for and pursuing females, where the female makes final decision which individual to mate with). In human society, the Omega usually has decided upon a mate and prompts a chase to demonstrate that choice publicly. Not all individuals choose to perform a mating chase.

 

OHS/ARS

Omega Heat/Alpha Rut Services developed from a need to provide safe medical facilities treating individuals in heat or rut emergencies. Unmated individuals may use OHS/ARS as an alternative to one-night stands (or “week stands”) or in situations lacking friends or family to assist. Such stands occur in “heat hostels” maintained by Services. Quality of facilities varies. Many OHS/ARS branches offer limited-time contracts for individuals who do not want to bond during their heat/rut. Betas are frequently employed by OHS/ARS as trained resolving medics.

 

Omega Legal Rights Act of 1950

The OLRA was passed following several years of activism and changing attitudes about Omega roles within society. The case of Omega Whitechapel versus Alpha Stevens in 1946 was a landmark in the Omega Rights movement. Lawmaker sentiment changed rapidly after 1945, following World War II and what became known as the Year of Heat, a 10-months long span of civil disobedience demonstrations around the country. Because the verdict in Whitechapel vs. Stevens found in favor of the Omega, many historians mark this time as the catalyst for official change. While Omegas had been guaranteed the right to vote and own property several decades prior to 1950, the law did not explicitly protect them in many cases. The OLRA assured legal backing in cases of discrimination, such as employer hiring practices and access to birth control for Omegas. The act expanded on traditional legal support in cases of consent issues.


	2. Consent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Consent is everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The actual body of the story. Phil's point of view is so enjoyable to write! Although I went with the fanon convention of Alpha Phil and Omega Clint, I hope I made my twist on things unique. Remember: potentially triggery discussion but no actual rape in this fic.

From the time children can understand, they are taught: consent is everything. Emergencies in heat or rut happen, are unfortunate biological necessities, but you do not force a bond. To force a bond is unthinkable. In the depths of heat or rut, one is not in their right mind. They cannot consent beyond the needs of pheromones. You do not force a bond. You do not taunt a bond.

\- - - - - 

“Well, this sucks.”

Phil Coulson blinked at the voice and tried to better focus on his fellow captive. Clint Barton hung in a standing position against the opposite wall in much the same way as Phil: bound arms and legs by strange crisscrossed cords that conformed to any attempt to escape. The cell was small and dank. It might have been an office custodial closet at one point, before numerous redesigns for housing anything other than cleaning supplies. Stupid cliche abandoned warehouses.

It was almost embarrassing how easily the small Hydra contingent had taken them. Director Fury had mentioned his suspicion of smarter splinter factions, smarter than SHIELD’s usual conflict with the organization. To be fair, Phil and Clint had been drugged, then overtaken, which was definitely going in the after-mission report. Two top agents, valiant and competent, could only be brought down by dirty cheaters who used sedatives.

Words were at the moment beyond him, so Phil grunted to show he was conscious. Whatever chemicals Hydra was dealing in, they did not agree with him.

“I’m thinking that was not plain chloroform they used,” Clint was saying. “Sir...” A considerable pause. “Are you okay, Coulson?”

“Don’t know.”

“Don’t fall asleep. Focus on my voice, Coulson.”

Phil was able to clearly focus on Clint’s face then. Aside from a scratch on the archer’s cheek and minimal bruising on one arm, Clint appeared fine. That went a long way to easing Phil’s concern. Phil himself didn’t notice any injuries except for the lag in his thinking.

“Hi,” Clint said with a smile far too gentle for their situation. “So, our hosts should be here soon, to gloat and everything, ‘cause you know Hydra loves their evil monologues, and then we can figure out how we can break out of here.”

Normally, Phil would know why Clint was being so falsely cheerful, but he was fighting through a lot of mental fog. “Barton--”

Naturally, their captors had good (or bad) timing. A Hydra officer, bedecked in the usual creepy-stupid uniform, let himself into their cell. Phil hoped he kept his eye roll only mental. Really, if he were ever an evil overlord, he would be more creative with his mooks’ uniforms.

“Feeling the effects yet, SHIELD?” the Hydra officer asked without preamble. “I admit my excitement at finally discovering everything our chemicals can do. We’ve only been able to test them on Betas so far.”

So it was hormone-based. That could explain Phil’s own confusion. It wasn’t quite pre-rut yet, but...

“What the hell did you give us?” Clint growled.

“Aggression already,” the Hydra man cooed. “I would have expected it in the Alpha instead.” He paced slowly between them, just out of reach if they strained in their ropes. “Is it something SHIELD actually encourages in its Omegas?”

“You want aggression, I’ll--”

“Barton, don’t,” Phil said, putting some of his Alpha Voice behind the command.

The Hydra officer kept his gaze on Clint but spoke to Phil. “Good. Do try keeping your control of your Omega for as long as you think you can.”

“I don’t control him,” Phil heard himself practically snarl. “He isn’t mine.” Clint didn’t belong to anyone, Omega or not, and Phil wouldn’t dishonor the man by pretending otherwise.

The Hydra man smirked in that distinct way some arrogant Betas got when they knew something everyone else didn’t. “From the scent of things, that won’t matter soon.”

Involuntarily, Phil sniffed. The compelling haze of Omega pre-heat hung in the room, quietly condemning. He saw the guilt and vulnerability in the clench of Clint’s jaw. As long as Phil had known the man, Clint was never guilty about his own heats. He took sufficient heat leave, and while flirtingly open about his cycle, when the time came he was as discreet and professional as suited an agent of SHIELD. The lack of control now must really unsettle Clint. This was not good. This was the opposite of good, which Phil’s brain might know the word for, if not for the chemicals swirling in it.

“Enjoy, gentlemen. We will be talking later, assuming you are capable of words,” the Hydra officer said, and left them alone again.

This put a kink in any escape plan. If Clint’s functioning was going to be impaired soon... “...Barton?”

“I’m sorry.”

That just gave Phil a fresh flash of anger. “Don’t apologize for who you are.” He tried futilely to reach for Clint; now that the pheromones were recognizable, the Alpha in him demanded he offer comfort.

Clint huffed through his nose. “What I am is obviously being artificially induced,” he said. Resentment tensed every line of his body.

Phil tilted his head back to rest against the wall he was bound to. Their captors were probably planning to use the effects of their respective pheromones to torture them. If the chemicals sent Clint into heat, it would eventually trigger Phil’s rut, and neither of them yet had a viable plan to escape, much less, time to take care of any hormonal demands. They could not accommodate the vulnerability involved in a coupling. He tried to breathe through his mouth and not too deeply, to ignore the scent after he already knew of it. Clint’s normal scent was compelling enough.

“How long do you think...until you’re not...um...until you...?” Phil was oddly embarrassed to discuss it.

“Until I’m not competent?” Clint’s anger somehow made Phil want to offer even more comfort. “Don’t know.” He shifted his hips, and Phil’s gaze was absolutely not drawn to the motion. “It feels fast, though. I’m sor-”

“Don’t say you’re sorry.”

“Well I am! I’m sorry my stupid biology is gonna mess up my head and probably screw you up too, and I’m sorry that Hydra asshole is gonna lose his fucking testicles for this!” The snarling outburst was punctuated by Clint almost throwing himself into his bindings. Impressive as his muscles were, however, they weren’t enough to break the ropes.

Aggression. Right. Of course neither of them would actually stick to the stereotypical dynamic roles. Phil felt weak and slow in contrast to Clint’s violence. He struggled to think. Their window of time was closing fast. Phil’s thoughts cycled through the old sex education classes, those that most youngsters giggled and blushed through. Phil recalled that, even then, his own instincts had been protective and was fascinated to learn about the other dynamics. At a certain point in heat, beyond the legal definition of ability to consent, the Omega needed a knotting. Pheromones spiked, and the only way to bring one out of it was an Alpha knot. Clinical insanity and sometimes death were usually the consequences otherwise. Thank goodness for SHIELD’s rigorous pre-consent forms and contracts with local branches of Omega Heat Services and Alpha Rut Services.

Not that Phil would ever be against the equation of his knot plus Clint in any way. Just the thought made his gut tingle.

It was that he didn’t trust himself.

“Don’t worry, sir. We’ll tear out of here before I have to insult you by presenting for your knot. Wouldn’t think of making you do what you wouldn’t want to.”

What. Okay, so Clint didn’t want him. Omegas weren’t indiscriminant, and Phil was hardly a prize. But to think Phil didn’t want... “Barton, you-”

“Just. No, Coulson. I can’t argue right now. Can’t trust myself to not regret saying something, eventually.”

Clint wouldn’t meet his eyes. He turned his head so Phil couldn’t read anything but the stubborn profile of his jaw. Phil sighed and closed his own eyes. This wouldn’t help the recent social friction he’d noticed between them. At least he could shut out the visual of a pre-heat Omega in prime physical form, bound and delicious.

It wasn’t just that Clint was an Omega and Phil was an Alpha. Phil had always been somewhat more inclined toward males, and Clint was a beautiful example of maleness. Sometime after Hawkeye had joined SHIELD, Phil realized that he also fell into the sensual trap Clint seemed to have hanging around him. Those godforsaken arms... It took a few missions together before Phil felt confident he could work with the man, and his doubts had not been due to any lack of the archer’s professional skills.

He and Clint had always been so good. Clint used to simply spend time with him. He used to bring coffee or snacks and sometimes even voluntarily start his paperwork. He used to stop into Phil’s office after his afternoon range-workout-shower to make sure Phil had taken a break. A freshly exercised and clean Clint could possibly get Phil to do anything. For a while, it might have just been the deep-rooted puppy in him wanting the attention of an attractive Omega. Then it was just Clint.

That was the issue. It was Clint. Respect tied up with lust and wound around care and trust. He remembered when they met. Both had been artificially suppressing, and there was still a recognized frission of attraction. Over the years it only grew. Phil wanted, he ached with wanting Clint. Wanted to mate. Most condemning, he wanted more than the depths of heat. He wanted a bond.

And Clint...did not want that. Or him.

He would eventually be able to live with that.

Phil’s hormones were already syncing with Clint’s. His sluggishness rolled over into actual tiredness, the body’s preparation for an expected mating by resting beforehand. Too bad those expectations were useless.

 

\- - - - -

 

Phil hated waking up not knowing how long he’d been asleep. Reality came back to him in sensory snatches: the press of the strange ropes trapping his arms and legs, the weight of pheromones in the small space, and the sound of a voice.

“Want it, nnnnggghhhh need it...” Clint was slurring his words, a dangerous sign. He probably did not realize he was talking at all. Arched against the wall, eyes squeezed closed, he continued his involuntary monologue. “Gonna do so much to that knot. ‘M so slick...so hard...think you can pin me down and make me take all of it? Ahh, not yet!” The bulge in Clint’s pants was obscene and Phil could not look away. “Gonna lick it first. Yessss. Dirty little knot-licking Omega. All yours...” His eyelids fluttered with whomever he must be picturing, as he ground his hips back against the wall. “You earned it. My Alpha earned me...”

Clint obviously was past the point of coherence. He must be imagining some ideal Alpha. Giving him what he wanted. What he probably biologically needed at this point. What Phil was more than willing to give and couldn’t. Not when Clint was past the line of consent. Not when Clint deserved a prime Alpha to his Omega beauty. Someone providing more than Phil could.

At heart, Phil was old-fashioned. He had been raised with more modern thinking, but at some point he latched on to the romantic ideal of wanting and expecting to provide for a future mate. His job at SHIELD would prevent most of that traditional relationship. He still preferred Omegas to any other dynamic. He wanted the intimate bond that only that pairing could bring into being. Any other combination could bond, some even without the pheromonal assistance of a Beta, but Phil wanted the primitive connection of his Alpha to someone’s Omega.

To Clint’s Omega, if Phil was completely honest. But Clint did not want it, and you never, ever forced a bond.

“Please,” Clint whimpered.

Phil growled, so low he didn’t realize until he felt the vibration in his own chest. Good lord, Clint’s voice alone was enough to make Phil’s knot sit up and beg. The man’s scent was near the drugging point now. Phil condemned himself even as he inhaled deeply for more. The spike reminded him of sandalwood, but more seductive. More Clint.

He felt his own rut descending fast. Just as in heat, there was a point in rut when a Beta’s balancing pheromones couldn’t fix it. Phil was probably himself past the point of legal competence. Falling asleep and breathing Clint’s pheromones had done the job of dragging him down. He had never let himself get to the emergency stage and did not look forward to that now.

He wished Clint was free, himself still bound. Clint could do whatever he wanted, could grind on Phil’s knot, and could take what he needed. Phil would be kept from what he wanted most, but Clint didn’t want a bond anyway. 

Despite the situation, he let himself float on the fantasy of tying Clint. That muscular body would arch under him, hole slick and hot, taunting and taking. It wouldn’t be like the flirting and half-displays Clint did as easily as breathing. Clint would purr and whine and need...

Clint was groaning more in pain now than in desire, and Phil’s fantasy slammed down. The man should never have to feel that kind of pain. Gunshots and knife wounds and so much else were unavoidable in their work, but Phil never liked it when someone got hurt. Phil’s Alpha impulses demanded he offer comfort again. He tended to respond protectively to any Omega he worked with, but this was exponentially worse, with the scent of Clint saturating the air. He could pick Clint from a crowd using only his nose. Imagined tracking him in an ancient mating chase.

Fuck. They needed to get out of here. Phil tested his ropes. They didn’t feel very well secured to the wall. They might, maybe, release in the right way if he lunged into them hard enough. He wasn’t sure he had the adrenaline for it, though. This artificial rut might flood his system with plenty of chemicals, but he felt weak. It usually made him domestic. He’d caught himself nesting in pre-rut before, instinct driving him to entice a mate rather than pursue. He had even once, embarrassingly, spent half a day subconsciously displaying before Fury had caught the scent and ordered him to Alpha Rut Services.

“Hmm, it smells intoxicating in here.” The Hydra soldier was back. His gaze raked over Clint as he sauntered closer to the archer. “So pretty. You are a pretty Omega, aren’t you,” he murmured close to Clint’s ear.

Clint was past words, making pleading little moans and grinding against air. Phil clenched his teeth. He would not cave to the rut demanding him to snarl at this intrusive Beta. It would insult Clint to lay claim to him that way.

The Hydra officer deliberately inhaled to make a show of catching Clint’s heat scent. “It has been a long time. The last Omega I had, well, he burned out because I just could not stop inducing him.” He ghosted fingertips just barely beyond touching Clint’s bicep. “Heat scent is like a drug, sometimes.” He looked at Phil. “But you know that, Alpha. Probably better than me.” His dirty gaze slinked over the betraying hardness in Phil’s pants, then to the urgent bulge in Clint’s.

“No,” Phil said before he could stop.

Of course the other had been trying for that reaction. The Hydra officer smirked. “It would be a great advantage to bind an inside SHIELD agent to our cause. The chemical...”

The sudden, distinct aerial slap of helicopter blades interrupting the Hydra officer’s smarmy speech was better than a heavenly choir. Phil indulged in some smugness and arched an eyebrow at the Hydra Beta.

“SHIELD cavalry arrived? How cute,” the Hydra officer said. “It only means my timetable has jumped forward, to this moment instead of a few more hours.” He leaned against Clint’s shoulder. “And you are a lucky voyeur to it,” he taunted Phil. “I won’t need to induce him, this time...”

The air spiked with distinctive Beta pheromones. Clint tilted his head in reflexive response, making his beautiful strong neck immediately vulnerable. Phil saw the swollen bonding gland at Clint’s right shoulder.

Phil would never fully be able to recount the events from this moment. He only knew that he was more ashamed than proud of his animal response. The bruises that formed later on his forearms and shins told a story of him slamming through his bindings until they snapped free of the wall. The Hydra officer was surprised as many were at Phil’s speed. It took mere seconds. Phil only recalled the sharp crack of his elbow hitting Hydra skull and the resulting thud of body hitting ground.

“Mmngrrh?” Clint said, eyes half-lidded and unfocused toward Phil.

Phil took the Hydra man’s knife, pistol, and cattle prod (what the hell?) from the crumpled unconscious body. Knife immediately went into service cutting Clint loose from his ropes. The archer was unsettlingly pliant with the whole thing.

“Mmm hot,” Clint mumbled, draping against Phil when he was free.

“Clint,” Phil snapped, hoping the timbre of Voice could bring the man at least partially back up.

Dilated eyes met Phil’s. A slow grin. “First name basis, Phil?”

Pushing a responding wave of desire aside, Phil handed Clint the pistol. Hawkeye had perfect accuracy with a 102 fever in 50-mph winds, so a thing like heat wouldn’t impair his marksmanship. He just needed slightly more focus. Prodding the man, Phil got Clint standing on his own and went to the door. “Come on,” he said.

“Come,” Clint murmured with a deep chuckle, and it sounded filthy.

In response, Phil might have kicked the door open with more showmanship than necessary. He would of course forever deny it was an impulsive move to impress an Omega.

Hydra had either abandoned the warehouse already, or their captor was a nutcase trying to work with hired cowards who had run at the first hint of trouble. No one challenged their path toward the sound of the approaching helicopter. A good thing, because Clint...

Clint yanked him against a wall and kissed him. Phil Coulson might have incredible willpower, but this? This was Clint Barton’s mouth. If the scent of the man in heat was drugging, the kiss of the man was lethal. Clint’s tongue did things that should not actually be possible. When Clint began grinding against his thigh, Phil pushed the man by his biceps against the wall and basically fucked their mouths together.

“Coulson!”

With a growl Phil turned and pressed Clint behind him. All he knew was another Alpha had arrived, and he was not letting them have his Omega. The rational part of him that knew the Deputy Director and Clint did not click that way, that she was no threat to his inappropriate claim on Clint, that part was gone under the fog of his rut. He flashed his stolen knife at the trespasser.

Maria Hill calmly leveled her weapon at Phil. “Agent Coulson, stand down,” she said in full Alpha Voice.

They eyed each other for a moment. The other two agents with her, both Betas, slid into non-threatening body language. They weren’t using their calming pheromones yet. Because he was so balanced on a knife’s edge between instinct and rationality, any spike in pheromones, even those attempting calm, would probably make him violent. After a few seconds, Phil’s higher brain recognized Hill and categorized her as not a threat, and he lowered his knife. Hill tilted her gun down but kept it ready. Good agent.

“He needs OHS,” Phil said without sugar coating the situation. “...And I think I need ARS. The Hydra operative had some kind of chemical...”

“If you’re both that far gone, you should-”

“No.”

Hill fixed him with one of her infamous done-with-your-shit looks. She tilted an eyebrow toward Clint, who was mindlessly rubbing against Phil’s side. The female Beta agent behind her smirked. Okay, them coupling would fix the situation faster than transporting them to Services, but...

“No.”

“Coulson...”

“I don’t trust myself not to bond him.”

Everything went still except for Clint’s muted neediness against Phil’s side. He felt like a pervert. Criminal. He wanted Clint so badly that he feared forcing him. Binding against Clint’s will would be a form of slavery, and before anything else, Phil wanted his hawk free. Unrequited feelings could stay that way, as long as Clint was his own person. As long as Clint always, always could choose for himself.

“Coulson, I know you wouldn’t. He knows you wouldn’t,” Hill was saying. Apparently she was feeling the instinctual need to comfort, as well. Not surprising with all the pheromones floating around.

“I don’t know if I wouldn’t,” Phil said. Everyone had a breaking point, and Clint had always been Phil’s weakness.

They regarded each other across the few feet between them. Phil remembered them first working together. It had only taken a few hours and a couple of eye rolls from Fury to establish subconscious shared territory and end any future rivalry. There hadn’t even been much posturing. Hill once told him later that she found it flattering, that legendary Agent Coulson could consider her any challenge as an Alpha. The respect between them became a legend of its own.

Hill let out a weighted sigh. “I’ll help him,” she said. “Will you let me approach?”

He almost snapped no. Almost condemned himself that much further. His body language surely screamed that he wanted to keep Clint, but he nodded, and helped Hill detach a mostly-insensate Clint from Phil’s side. The younger man whined. The sound punched through to Phil’s heart.

The female Beta agent (he would have to recall her name later) was perfectly tactful approaching Phil. Thank goodness, he thought, for the evolution of that mediating dynamic. This Beta’s pheromones were instinctively calming, as they had always been meant to do.

“I’m a trained resolving medic, sir,” she said. “We can try bringing you back up...if we can’t, I’ll call out for ARS.”

Beyond embarrassment but still capable of some basic resentment at her reasonable offer, Phil nodded again. A Beta medic resolving his rut for him would be less embarrassing than an emergency call to admit Agent Coulson to Alpha Rut Services, no matter how discreet their contract with SHIELD. He didn’t have to like it, though. He didn’t have to be reasonable or logical when rut was overtaking him.

The helicopter was one of SHIELD’s larger machines. It had two tiny, extensively private rooms, for medical or other necessary isolation. Phil admitted to himself that his behavior was sullen as he followed the Beta to one room. He knew what use the other room was going to be put to.

The medic was professional. Her pheromone influence was soothing and cooling, exactly what recently violent Phil needed. He came at least twice before all the haze and fog was gone. She barely even touched his knot. It was his problem if he could resent multiple rounds at his age. After, he properly thanked her, and did not insult her by recommending a reward for service. He napped most of the remaining trip to Headquarters, his dreams lighted by wishful images of Clint’s eyes.

 

\- - - - -

 

His post-mission report was for Fury’s ears only. The Director winced in sympathy at Phil’s description of Clint’s symptoms. Fury knew firsthand how an unfulfilled heat felt. As an old friend and as an Omega, he tried to offer Phil gruff comfort, and Phil felt more guilty that he couldn’t fully accept that absolution.

He hid in his office for a long while. Paperwork distracted him until he could not shut off the memory of Clint’s heat-hazy monologue. What sort of Alpha would Clint imagine during that kind of desperation? Because he was on a roll for tormenting himself, Phil went so far as to presume that Clint wasn’t the type to enjoy anyone pinning him down. An Alpha would need to work for the privilege to knot Clint Barton. Would Clint choose a mating chase, or would he want to physically grapple with an Alpha for rights of claiming?

Good god, this was out of hand.

Phil’s suit jacket had long since been tossed over the back of his chair. His tie was loosened, then gone as well. He felt too unhinged to leave his office for coffee or tea or anything to comfort his stomach. Hill and Fury and two other agents knew he wanted to take Clint. Maybe they wouldn’t think Phil unworthy of his position at SHIELD, but Phil frankly questioned his own integrity. Even if he’d been medically cleared as competent after his artificial rut, he didn’t feel that way.

Maria Hill appeared at his office door, her smile weary around the edges. “He’s okay,” she said first, because she could be damnably perceptive about Phil’s priorities. “Are you?”

Phil sighed, but nodded. “Are you here to say I should talk to him?”

“I’m here to tell you he’s okay. He’s in medical. Whatever chemical Hydra used apparently burned off after a single knotting. They’re making sure Clint is competent now. They’re surprised that he was so far gone but he didn’t need several days.”

Maybe Phil didn’t hide his jealousy so well, because Maria smirked as she closed his office door and settled in the spare chair. “How was he?” Phil asked, then realized how it sounded. “I mean, how was it? I-fuck, I don’t mean that either. Thank you for letting me know he’s okay now.”

“He was good for my ego,” Maria said. She wasn’t gloating. “He’s one of those aggressive, demanding Omegas. Could make himself a fortune in porn, with that filthy mouth. I had to gag him after a point.” She sounded incongruously sad, like gagging an Omega wasn’t sometimes a safety thing, or even kinky.

That would certainly feed Phil’s fantasies. He could so easily imagine that: Clint demanding, grabbing and ordering an Alpha’s knot around according to what he needed. And the knot licking...it hadn’t really been a kink of Phil’s. Until now. “I’m a terrible person,” he muttered.

“Oh, stop that. You’re stronger than anyone I know.”

“Maria, I wanted to bond him.” Phil raked a hand through his hair.

“You didn’t actually do it. And I’m sure the circumstances would never actually get you convicted...”

“Really, Maria? You’re talking legal repercussions, when I’m saying I would have biologically enslaved him. Do you understand-”

“I understand fine, Phil. Get over yourself.” She stood over him across the desk, her index finger stabbing the air between them for emphasis. “I didn’t tell him, but he’s going to want to know why you refused to save him, save you both, for god’s sake, in a heat emergency.” She glared at him for a moment. “If you need to hear it this way, remember that you were ready to challenge me, you were that far gone, and you still did not turn around and rape him. Be an actual Alpha and think about that, Phil.”

He didn’t smell actual pheromones in her wake, but her angry exit was enough. Phil laid his head on the desk and groaned. The private dramatics felt good.

He managed to brew some tea using the tiny electric kettle he kept in the office. His hands felt cold curled around the steaming mug. Okay, he thought. Clint was okay. Wasn’t Clint’s freedom and health the whole point?

He remembered them hiding out in a safe house, years ago. Clint was a more abrasive version of himself back then, infusing more sarcasm than almost physically possible into the word “sir” and claiming any small luxury he could -- first shower, best snacks in the cupboard -- for himself, just to be obnoxious, testing another handler’s limits. Phil had simply smiled and asked what Clint thought of developing prototype specialized boomerang arrows. The surprised gratitude in Clint’s eyes was the end for Phil. Maybe he hadn’t fallen in love then, but that was the moment he wanted to cause as much happiness for Clint as possible.

It wasn’t overly sexual for a long time. Outside of pre-heat, Clint was surprisingly null, or at least his flirting didn’t register as much with Phil. Of course Clint was perpetual eye candy, but his appeal was more like a museum artifact: there for the visual but separate and somewhat above everyone. Budapest of course changed that, because Budapest changed everything...

Was it cliche to say that the office door slammed open and an angry Clint burst through? No other description was accurate enough. Kicking the office door shut again behind him, Clint pinned Phil with his freakishly intense glare. “What. The hell. Is your problem?”

Frowning, Phil started to reprimand Clint on the rudeness, but Clint had none of it. He stomped forward to loom over the desk at Phil. “The only words you get to say are to explain why the hell you were just going to fucking let us both drown in pheromones, so you didn’t have to taint your knot with me. You explain that to me, Phil fucking Coulson.”

“Barton-”

“You tell me why Maria fucking Hill had to knot me.” Clint’s expression was worse than Black Widow’s at her most murderous. “You look me in the eye and you explain.”

“Barton, this is unprofessional,” Phil said in a weak effort to gather the tatters of his own dignity around him.

“Unp- you- wh-” Clint sputtered. Then his eyes turned utterly cold. “I’m not...you didn’t want to rut me. I see where I stand, sir. Thanks for saving yourself the disgusting task.” He shoved up from where he’d leaned on Phil’s desk and turned to leave.

“Barton, that’s not...” Desperate to keep the man present until he could think up something to tell him, Phil brought out his Voice, “Hawkeye, stay.”

Clint could probably resist it, but he stopped mid-turn at the Alpha Voice, glaring at the wall. Everything in him tensed as Phil stood and tentatively came halfway around his desk. “We’ve always been good, Coulson. I promise it wouldn’t have changed anything. It would have just been hormones.”

“It would have changed everything.”

Clint sucked in a breath. “Why?” he asked, as though against his will.

The man’s self esteem was so low. He deserved to know it was absolutely not repulsion on Phil’s part. “I wanted to bond you,” Phil said, imagining the quiet admission traveling across an actual canyon between them.

Clint didn’t move. His sniper’s stillness betrayed his shock.

If he was confessing, he might as well say it all, Phil thought. “You were beyond consent,” he said, “and I didn’t trust myself. You never, ever force a bond, Clint, you know that. How could I do that to you?” He took a timid step closer to the other man. “I’ve been beating myself up for it for years. You don’t want me. Not...not the way I want you. It was never a matter of not wanting to rut you. I want it too much.”

“Phil,” Clint whispered. He still didn’t look away from the wall.

“You should probably request another handler,” Phil said. “One who doesn’t want to rape you.”

“No!” 

Clint’s movement startled Phil so much that he didn’t move away when Clint turned right into his personal space. Their eyes held for a moment. After as long as they’d worked together, Clint’s fierceness still surprised Phil. The intensity in those green eyes practically skewered Phil in place.

“Not another handler,” Clint said, deep and deliberate.

“You don’t understand,” Phil said, desperate now. “Maria had to take care of you, because I saw that gland on your neck and I...” Clint was so close, they were almost breathing the same air now. “I lost it. I’m not some caveman Alpha, Clint, but I was ready to enslave you. You can’t possibly want that. You’re a free Omega.” Phil closed his eyes, clenched his hands at his sides, and went on. “You deserve whatever you want, not some pervert who thinks he has a right to be jealous about you flirting and displaying...”

Phil couldn’t get any more words out, because Clint was kissing him. The archer’s hands grasped Phil’s face, leaving Phil helpless except to clutch at Clint’s arms for some kind of balance. Warmth, no, pure fire and awareness swirled through Phil. The lack of immediate pheromones dampened nothing. The simple physical presence of Clint drew Phil in. Compared to their kiss before, this one was no less intense for being less graphic. Clint’s warm lips felt perfect. His long fingers ignited Phil’s skin where they touched. How was it fair that their mouths and the line of their bodies fit together so well?

Clint pulled away and rested his forehead on Phil’s. “Dammit. You, Phil. I’ve been displaying for you.”

Not much could render Phil Coulson speechless. The fact that Clint could, it should probably bother him more than it did. He stared into Clint’s eyes and thought damn, could they be any more like a kaleidoscope? The boy with kaleidoscope eyes...

Clint was grinning. “I like when I can make you forget how to talk.” His thumb massaged a tiny patch of skin beside Phil’s ear.

“Clint, wh-”

Clint was chuckling. “Big Alpha Coulson, all tongue-tied.” He kissed Phil’s nose. “Yeah, I know I flirt with everyone, but the displays, Phil...always been for you.”

The progression from anger to insecurity to affection hadn’t caught up with Phil yet. He pressed the pads of his fingers into Clint’s elbows to anchor himself. “You can’t want-”

“Don’t tell me what I want, you,” Clint interrupted.

“But-”

“No.” Clint’s grip on his face tightened briefly. “I’m a free Omega, right?”

Phil inhaled in some attempt to think straight. Clint’s scent was just himself, the smell of heat dissolved, and that was more reassuring than expected. “I-you’re going to have to explain,” Phil said. “You were ready to tear my head off two minutes ago.”

“Yeah,” Clint sighed. “Yeah, okay.” He rested his hands on Phil’s shoulders and leaned back so Phil could see his smile. “You just said you want to mate me.”

“And you need to explain why that isn’t extremely insulting.”

“Because I’ve wanted you for years, and we’ve both been dumbasses about it.”

Clint wanted him back. Was he dreaming, still in some kind of rut-induced fog? “God,” Phil sighed. “I imagined losing my mind one day, and raping you...”

“Could you stop using that word?”

Phil cringed. “Sorry.” Whoever thought Alphas were the ones in charge clearly did not know Omegas well enough. “I’m rearranging a lot of my personal assumptions at the moment.”

“And I’m too happy to tease you about your vocabulary. Seriously, Phil. I came in here thinking you were totally repulsed by my heat, and you say it’s the opposite, which is, like, what I wanted handed to me on a silver platter.”

This time, Phil kissed Clint. They melted into each other, which would be cliche but delightfully wasn’t. With the edge of pheromones gone, it was just two people who wanted this. Clint’s tongue slid in a soft tease along Phil’s bottom lip, and Phil opened, thinking he should be thanking Clint for his forgiveness.

“I should take offense at the silver platter thing,” Phil said when they separated.

Clint’s smile included an ivory flash of teeth, and hell, when had that become sexy? “No   
you shouldn’t. It’s only fair trade that you offer yourself up, when the Omega has to present, and all.”

“Clint.” He leaned into the man’s body. “Why would I think you’d take my offer? I’m past the average mating age, I live a dangerous job, and my last checkup told me I’m probably infertile...”

“You think I would want to bring a child into our kind of lives? I had such an inspirational upbringing; I totally can’t wait to inflict that on someone. Let’s make sure the kid spends time in the circus, to get the full Barton family experience.”

“I’m sorry, Clint.” Phil held the man’s face, kissing his forehead, his nose, his cheeks. Honoring the Omega with a blessing of kisses. He’d always loved how Clint stood his ground when he made up his mind. Beautiful stubbornness. “The traditional part of me wants to offer you the best.”

“You mean offer me the cliche. Phil, I would break apart any white picket fence to whittle the slats into arrows. If I wanted traditional, I would’ve spent all those years displaying for-”

“Displaying for whom?”

The grin with the teeth was back. “Just so you know, Phil, that jealousy? Kinda really hot. Growl at me, baby.” Clint nudged their hips together.

Phil gave in to his shudder. He pressed his hands into the small of Clint’s back, holding them a fraction closer. The shape of their cocks pressed together, reminding Phil of past evidence that Clint was very well endowed. The archer smirked. Phil could only roll his eyes, because Clint was rightfully smug about his effect on people.

Leaning even closer to murmur against Clint’s ear, Phil said, “You mentioned knot licking, back at the warehouse. I don’t know what you remember, but it was...an inspirational monologue.” At Clint’s audible inhale, Phil added, “Maria said she had to gag you because of your filthy mouth...”

“Fuck,” Clint whispered, breath traveling along Phil’s cheek. “I thought that was heat-delusion. What else don’t I remember? What else did I say?”

“I don’t know, but Maria said you could make a fortune in porn. I’m sure you could, with your body.” Sliding hands up Clint’s back, Phil enjoyed the shift of muscle as the other man moved into the touch. “Maybe I’m right to be jealous, if you would actually indulge in those kinks with someone else.”

“No,” Clint said. “Not now. Not since meeting you.”

That fierceness somehow surprised Phil every time he saw it. Even though he knew how stubborn a decided Clint was. Amongst the comm. banter, the lazy flirting, and the simplistic jokes Clint always wove around himself, he was still a sniper and a high-level agent. “Since we met?” Phil asked in disbelief.

“Mmmhmm. Naughty Alpha tease you were, only half-suppressing, so close to his rut.” Tucking closer, Clint nibbled the side of Phil’s jaw. “The smell drove me nuts...”

“I thought you had your sights on Shearing back then.”

“I needed her Beta influence, after you went all super-ninja when we met. The look on that bro’s face when you took him down, with your goddamn pen...then you just looked at me and reminded me of the number on your SHIELD business card...I needed some resolving hormones after that.”

Phil raised an eyebrow. “You have a competency kink.”

“A huge one, when it comes to you.” Clint looked intently at Phil again. His grin flashed, crooked and irresistible. “Read as much innuendo into that sentence as possible.”

“Fuck,” Phil muttered, closing his eyes briefly. “That Hydra officer, if he had...I saw your gland; it was pornographic, Clint.” He pressed his thumb against Clint’s jaw until the man looked him in the eyes. “If I wasn’t going to take you because of non-consent, he sure as fucking hell was not going to touch you. I lost it. I barely remember getting us free. Half of it was probably just an Alpha trying to impress an Omega. No higher brains involved at all.”

Something about that made Clint blush. “I remember just enough sensory stuff to know I was not much help.” Cringing at himself, he looked at Phil through his eyelashes. “Pretty sure I just humped your leg.”

Phil laughed at the endearing bluntness that was Clint Barton. “That part was a bit difficult to ignore.” They stood in each others’ arms for several quiet moments. Clint rested his hands on Phil’s shoulders and played with the ends of hair at Phil’s nape. Phil rubbed the palm of one hand in the small of Clint’s back in a half-possessive, half-thoughtful gesture. “Just so we are both absolutely clear,” Phil said after a while, “I want to bond you, and you are agreeable to that?”

“Yes, Phil, oh my god. I want you. In and out of heat. How do I prove that?”

Phil kissed the man, just lightly, then looked at him. He knew he’d been a glorious idiot. Clint still somehow wanted him. “I think maybe I need to earn it,” he said.

Clint’s expression was purely salacious. “Earn the right to knot me? I can work with that.” Omega arousal, enticing and inciting, wafted between them. Smiling when he saw Phil’s nostrils flare, Clint purred into Phil’s ear, “Chase me.”

He was gone before Phil could blink. The way Hawkeye moved was poetry and predatory all at once. Graciously Phil gave him a full minute’s head start. Then the mating chase was on.

A full pursuit through SHIELD headquarters was just as disruptive as it sounded. Alpha pups cringed, not ready to fully comprehend a chase. Older Alphas were wise enough not to try joining the chase, especially not against Agent Coulson. Betas rolled their eyes but watched, just in case. Omegas tracked the legendary Coulson with half-envy. Unless the situation became an obvious danger to the participants, a mating chase was never interrupted. It was one of the most primitive and honored displays between Alpha and Omega.

It almost ended when Phil caught Clint’s ankle as the archer tried to vault over a desk, but Clint yanked free and scrambled on. Phil heard himself growl with the profound pleasure of it. His blood surged when Clint laughed and his scent intensified. Phil was going to earn this, and it was going to be incredible.

Shoving the desk out of the way was easy with all the right hormones swirling through Phil’s system. Briefly he noticed Sitwell watching with a grin. No better Beta to watch over his chase, Phil thought. He would put up with all the teasing afterward. The man’s blessing now was the best encouragement.

Clint had stopped running and poised with a flimsy cubicle partition between them. His expression taunted Phil. No one of Clint’s age, with his experience, should be able to look that damn innocent. Fucking tease. Phil stopped a few feet away, assessing things. He could lunge across those few feet easily enough, but the partition would make it hard to grab Clint. That would end the chase and affirm the claiming, but tackling Clint would of course never be so easy.

Some psychologists said that Omegas leading their mating chase could feel the impulse to make it easy for the Alpha. Subconsciously, they said, the Omega had already accepted, and would allow themselves to be caught much more easily than they were actually capable of making the chase. In modern times that was probably true. When humans gained intelligence and adopted societies, their instincts adapted. The mating chase became a public performance. The decision was made beforehand, and the chase was only a demonstration for others. Knowing Clint, though, no way would he disrespect Phil by making a chase for him easier.

Phil needed this. As he’d said, he needed to earn Clint. Needed to know that every gesture, every scent, every Omega-born submission from Clint was real. He would trail after Clint like a heeling hound if it took that.

One of Clint’s distinctive slow grins took over his face. Phil’s awareness narrowed to nothing but Clint. Nothing but Omega, the one he wanted. Every sense focused. He wondered if this was how Clint felt before loosing an arrow.

“Oh, for the love of--would you claim your man?”

Phil wasn’t sure who’d spoken. He was beyond distinguishing such things. Any other time, an audience would have embarrassed him, but for this chase he actually wanted spectators. He wanted no doubts about his claim. He already belonged to Clint. He would take his rightful privilege with the Omega and make him his.

He saw Clint’s muscles tense the fraction of an instant before the archer moved. Shoving the partition toward Phil, Clint lunged away and tried to run again. Active agent reflexes served Phil perfectly as he clamored over the obstacle, shouldering into Clint’s body in a tackle. They went down hard onto the thin carpeting of the hallway. For every twist Clint made to escape, Phil was ready, and they grappled for a few minutes. The feel of Clint’s body beneath his made Phil feel more Alpha than he ever had. He let those hormones and instincts triggered by the chase work to his advantage, adding to his usual sparring ability.

In record time, Phil had Clint’s wrists pinned to the floor beside his head. Looming over the Omega, Phil growled in his most runaway, sultry Voice, “Mine.”

Clint arched his neck. “Yours.”

The mating chase was over. Alpha had earned rights to Omega, and Omega had accepted. Phil felt invincible. He leaned close and licked the side of Clint’s bared neck. The other man shuddered and whined, as submissive as Phil had ever seen him. He didn’t hold any delusions that Clint was a routinely submissive Omega, and he didn’t want it that way. If he wanted a simpering Omega, he wouldn’t have fallen for Clint Barton.

Later, in private, Clint would do his own claiming. Even after a successful mating chase, the Omega could still decline, but Phil knew by the look in Clint’s eyes and the bend of his body that Clint would enthusiastically accept once they were alone.

Biologists said that Omegas had the strongest bonding hormones, but something was happening now that Phil knew he had his mate. Adrenaline, maybe. Love, certainly. Whatever chemicals bathed the brain in this incredible feeling. He met Clint’s eyes and saw the same.

“Jasper, you owe me fifty bucks,” Maria Hill said from the gathered audience. “The fools got their act together in less than twelve hours.”

“I’ll take you out for steak,” Sitwell answered. “It’s a celebration for both of us, not to have to suffer watching through another cycle of their UST.”

Clint chuckled. “So you were the only one who didn’t see it,” he teased Phil.

“Man has a huge blind spot when it comes to you, Barton,” Nick Fury’s voice cut through the hallway. Phil looked over to see the Director standing with crossed arms as the small crowd parted like a parody of the Red Sea for Moses. His face was stern as usual, but Phil knew Fury’s tells, and the other man had a spark in his eye. “If you’re done breaking my office furniture, go home, agents. Nobody needs to see the aftermath of your chase.”

“Nobody...needs to, but...” Maria began with a smirk.

“Spare us all your voyeurism, Hill. It’ll be bad enough when they start taking regular heat leave.”

Phil blushed. Clint laughed. “Hey,” Clint said, nudging Phil’s leg with a foot, “you got your man. They’re gonna harass us a bit about it.”

With a resigned sigh, Phil stood and offered help to Clint to stand. Unnecessary, but he was still feeling possessive of his new mate. Briefly Clint pressed his nose to the side of Phil’s neck, a gesture of intimacy for their audience to see how he had freely made his choice as Omega. Someone in the crowd cooed about the sweetness of it.

“We’re taking double the standard post-mission four days downtime,” Phil told Fury. If his hand found Clint’s and their fingers laced together, that was a perfectly reasonable gesture.

Fury nodded. “Enjoy, agents,” he said with a smirk.

“We’ll file the change of attachment forms when we return.”

With another nod, Fury reached out and squeezed Phil’s shoulder. He leaned in to murmur, “Good catch, Cheese.”

With Clint’s laughter again ringing in his ears, Phil smiled through his renewed blush. “Thanks, Marcus.”


	3. Claiming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonding night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it. I caved to feelschat peer pressure to write a smut chapter. Enjoy!

Phil took them to his place. The symbolism of it was blatantly intentional; he was offering his territory as potential home and nest for his Omega. Clint’s very brief glance around was plenty, and his approval flashed warm with his smile. Then Phil was pressed against the wall. Clint and his strong warmth soaked into Phil’s senses.

“You understand it’s not just because of heat, right?” Clint asked. “I’d want you if you were null.”

Taking a moment to soak in Clint’s intent expression, Phil slid his hands down to rest on the man’s hips. “I might still need some convincing of that,” he confessed.

Clint grinned that lopsided grin that made Phil shudder. “That’s why we’re here, right? So I can ‘convince’ you to be my Alpha.”

“And that’s just so romantic, Barton. I’m swept off my feet, here.”

“Our chase was plenty romantic enough.” Clint rested his hands on Phil’s shoulders. “Now I just want you to bite me.”

The reality of it made Phil’s eyes slide shut briefly. He was going to have this Omega, this Clint, permanently. “You think we can make it happen?” he asked. “After the Hydra chemicals interfered with things?”

“We’re sure fucking going to try.”

Phil laughed with the joyful wonder of it, and kissed Clint. They could always try again at Clint’s next natural heat, and many, many times in between. Clint moved against him as their tongues got to know each other. The archer’s hands stuttered over Phil’s body, pulling shirttails out of his dress slacks and generally ruining Phil’s coherence. The shape of Clint’s cock pressed at Phil’s hip. He was definitely going to enjoy that cock, Phil decided, in every nontraditional way Clint would allow.

“Bedroom,” Phil growled, pushing at Clint’s chest.

“Mmm, not yet.” Clint was immovable, stronger when Phil had no rut pheromones on his side. “You said I mentioned knot licking. Gotta keep my promise, right?”

Phil didn’t care what his face showed. He hadn’t received a blowjob in years. He watched with near awe as Clint dragged caresses down his body until he knelt at Phil’s feet. Hasty unbuttoning left Phil naked from the waist up, but he waited for Clint to make his move with the rest.

Clint’s name fell sharp into the sounds of their breathing when the Omega spread his palm over the fabric tented at the front of Phil’s pants. More slowly than Phil thought he could bear, Clint unfastened Phil’s pants and slid them along with underwear down Phil’s slightly trembling legs. His knot hadn’t fully formed yet but it tingled just at the weight of Clint’s gaze.

Clint’s insanely gorgeous fingers slid down Phil’s length. He pressed his palm against Phil’s hipbone with Phil’s cock cradled between thumb and index finger. “I bet your knot gets huge when you’re rutting,” Clint said. “All the better to split me open and plug me up at the same time...”

“Jesusfuck, Clint. I should gag you before I come right now.”

A dark chuckle rumbled from Clint’s lips. “If you gag me, you won’t get to make me swallow your cock down whole.” At Phil’s harsh gasp, Clint brought his other hand up to pin the Alpha’s hips to the wall. “Don’t move. Let me do the work.”

Phil could barely believe the sight of Clint’s mouth stretching over his hardness. One hand clutched uselessly at the wall, the other massaged the side of Clint’s neck where his bonding gland was minutely noticeable. Clint’s hand was at his own fly, clumsily freeing himself as he flicked tongue over Phil’s shaft. Phil swore. What in the universe had given him this kind of fortune? An Omega who shared the same brash kinkiness with Phil, who knew Phil’s flaws and cared nothing about them.

That mouth was hot like the rest of the man. Phil tightened his stomach to keep from moving into it. Surprisingly, Clint did not immediately plunge all the way down, but let the hard length stretch his lips and weigh down his tongue. Jealous of the someone(s) who had given Clint the time to learn this skill, Phil squeezed the man’s neck harder, feeling the gravelly groan under his fingers as well as on his cock.

“You like that?” Phil murmured. “You’re so good. How does it taste, sweetheart?” He was petting the side of Clint’s neck now, not completely aware of his own words. “My sweet little Omega. My dangerous, deadly mate.”

Clint looked up, his dilated eyes almost glowing with arousal. Phil was about halfway in the man’s mouth, almost resting there more than anything. Below that, Clint gripped himself where he jutted from his opened fly. To think that Clint enjoyed this just as much sent a jolt to the base of Phil’s spine. He wondered if Clint would like to try fucking him sometime. He hadn’t been fucked well enough since his fling with another Alpha while still in the Rangers.

Sliding his mouth until he sucked on just the head, Clint fluttered his eyes closed in obvious bliss. Phil would have come right then, except he really wanted to mount his Omega’s glorious ass. With his free hand he petted Clint’s hair. “This is so fucking good,” he said, “but I want you in my bed, Clint.”

Clint’s lips were slick when he pulled away from Phil’s cock and smirked up at the Alpha. He stood, letting his pants drop to his ankles and crowding against Phil for another kiss. “Want you deep, deep in me,” he murmured. “My Alpha.”

“I love you,” Phil said, the words out in a rush he’d never regret.

Clint rested his forearms on the wall on either side of Phil and leaned their foreheads together. “Love you too,” he said.

“How do I even deserve you?”

Nuzzling into Phil’s neck, Clint traced large hands over Phil’s bare skin. “Let’s see...broad shoulders,” he caressed them, “fine suits, a distracting body beneath them,” he traced along Phil’s sides to his waist, “and a cock that makes my mouth water. Certainly nothing to earn my attention here.” Phil’s expression must have still been doubtful. “But if you’re still so insecure, I’ll just have to work harder to remove that doubt.”

Clint’s skin was so warm when Phil slid hands up the archer’s arms. He swore the man looked even more naked in a plain tank top than actually shirtless. “I don’t care if we can’t bond right now,” Phil said. “I just want you.”

“You have me,” Clint said. “You earned me. Coulda had each other years ago...”

“If we hadn’t been such idiots,” Phil finished.

“Yeah. God, Phil...” Clint kissed the sensitive spot beneath Phil’s ear. “Just. Take me to bed and make me yours.”

That classically Omega plea hit all of Phil’s best instincts. He wanted to cherish his mate. Outside of the imperative of heat, he could do just that. “You are mine, Clint. You let me catch you.” He pushed Clint’s top up and off. “My perfect, perfect Omega.”

Touching a gentle finger to the place Phil would have a bonding gland if he were Omega, Clint smiled at the older man. “I didn’t expect all this to be so sappy.”

“If you want something different, you know we can...”

“No, I actually like this. The tenderness. I guess I’m like a romance novel Omega that way, after all.” He looked at Phil with that incongruous young look again. “The way I grew up, I didn’t think I’d ever even get to lead my own mating chase, and now I have you, and I just...”

Clint stopped because Phil was kissing him again. The floodgates of their emotions might never close again after their deep sentimental confessions. It contrasted so starkly with the violence that usually filled their lives. Maybe the cheap romance novels had it right, and finding one’s mate was every kind of cliche right down to the syrupy lines. Phil would have to confess sometime his embarrassing soft spot for mushy tales. Clint made him safe to do so, though.

“Safe,” he murmured against Clint’s lips. “Our own private sappiness is okay.”

Smile surprising in its tenderness, Clint held Phil close. “I never had the usual sex-ed classes in school,” Clint said, “’cause, you know, not the usual schooling...but I don’t think they included how this feels.”

“The closeness? The rightness?” Phil asked. “No, the classes never said how complete it would feel.” He smiled and pressed his palm to Clint’s shoulder blade, urging them together for another soft kiss. “I think, more than the hormones, it’s how long we’ve worked together. You can’t create trust like ours with pheromones.”

“Nope.” Stepping backward, Clint drew Phil away from the wall. “Phil. Show me your bed, my Alpha mate.”

Phil wasn’t sure if the sound he made was a growl or a purr. He crowded Clint with his body as he directed them to the bedroom. When Clint hit the mattress, he sprawled, taunting Phil with hooded eyes while stroking himself. Phil knew his own scent of arousal spiked. That smooth and generous Omega cock was more gorgeous than he could have imagined.

Crawling onto the bed until he bracketed Clint’s body with his own, Phil purred his arousal into the skin of Clint’s chest. “Want you to fuck me sometime,” he said. “Lots of times. We will find every kink we share and try them over and over.”

“Phil, please...”

The scent of them both was already becoming their scent together. Phil detected sandalwood and citrus among other sweet notes of pure lust. This would be them, indistinguishable from each other once they bonded, a sensory marker that they were both claimed when apart. Phil licked at Clint’s nipple, drawing a wonderful sound from the man beneath him. Clint wasn’t filthily vocal yet, but they had only started.

Phil slid a possessive hand over Clint’s cock, making the man grind into the touch. He hummed words of protectiveness and love against Clint’s heated skin. Then Phil slid his fingers over and beneath Clint’s balls to the sound of a gorgeous groan.

“Yes...” Clint whispered. One arm curled around Phil, hand clutching at Phil’s bare back. “Touch me, fucking feel me with your fingers.” He spread his leg, hitching it up at the knee until his foot braced on the mattress.

Leaning up for another kiss, Phil pushed two fingers slowly into Clint’s body. The man was slick beyond belief. His kiss swallowed the shuddering sound Clint made and he began moving his fingers. Made for each other, that was what this had to be. Clint’s free hand gripped the sheets, the muscles in his arm moving beautifully. Phil felt his knot growing and precome seeping wet into the skin of Clint’s hip. The sexual power he held over this man was heady.

“Mmm Phil,” Clint murmured, “you feel what you do to me? I’m all slick, babe. For you. Give me that cock soon. Fill me up deep.” He flexed into Phil’s penetrating fingers.

“You and your damn filthy mouth,” Phil said.

Clint’s grin held no penance. “The rest of me is filthy too.” He gripped the back of Phil’s neck, pulling him in to nip at Phil’s lips. “Mount me, Phil.”

Before Phil could remember just how acrobatic Clint could be, the man had twisted to his hands and knees on the bed, the perfect picture of a presenting Omega. Phil’s hindbrain roared at the sight. With instinctive petting motions, he traced along the planes of Clint’s flanks, over his hips and buttocks, and down his strong thighs.

“So beautiful, Clint,” he said. “Waiting for my knot.”

Clint’s response was to arch his back even more enticingly. In no shape to resist, Phil leaned over Clint’s body, fitting his cock into the shape between Clint’s thighs. Clint gripped the sheets and whimpered another plea. Laying gentling kisses along the man’s bare back, Phil tangled their left hands together. Slowly he pressed inside. The slick grip of Clint’s body nearly fried his brain.

Clint sighed as if finally settling into something long denied him. Phil groaned against his neck. Instinct and experience didn’t prepare him for this. His mate. He licked the side of Clint’s neck and began moving, slow strokes into Clint’s eager hole.

“My Alpha,” Clint said. He moved into Phil’s thrusts. “Mine. Take me, Phil.”

“So deep, no one can pull me out,” Phil agreed.

Clint’s whole body arched with the thrust of Phil’s hips. No one else would ever get to see this, Phil’s primitive brain told him. This was theirs. The fire in his Omega’s body accepted each rough penetration as it was made to do. For each movement Phil gave, Clint took.

“So good,” Clint said. “Think about my next heat. We’ll take leave, and this is all we’ll have to do for days. Just fucking. Filling me with your cock, tying me for hours. You can mount me and fuck me until I scream.” His body bucked. “God, Phil! Bite me, baby. Bond me.”

Clint’s bonding gland had swollen again. The scarlet urge to claim flashed behind Phil’s eyes as he nuzzled the spot. He gripped Clint’s cock and stroked while he traced the barest edge of his teeth against Clint’s neck. Clint’s moan poured out with another swirl of aroused pheromones. Now that he knew it was wanted, Phil shivered with the impending bond. His knot ached to fill that tight hole.

“I love you,” Phil murmured, just before thrusting in deep and biting down at the same moment.

Pleasure exploded between them. Clint howled, thrusting back to take Phil’s entire knot at once. Feedback from pheromones and their natural connection sizzled along Phil’s spine. Telepathic bonds were rare, but if anything else about their coming together wasn’t usual, Phil thought they might be able to bond minds as well as bodies. He swore he felt Clint’s orgasm rocket through the man. His knot swelled and filled Clint completely. The Omega’s bonding gland secreted a liquid somewhat thicker than sweat. It tasted of everything Phil had ever wanted. He licked at the spot, tongue chasing the birthmark-type pattern that would form to mark Clint as a bonded Omega.

Clint bucked into Phil’s hips, hole clenching hard around Phil’s knot. This love and desire swirling through him was too much, it couldn’t possibly be from a single source. He felt Clint’s pleasure at the base of his brain, multiplying his own. No sex-ed classes had ever explained the power of bonding with a perfectly compatible mate. His senses burst into color as he released deep within Clint.

When he could focus again, Phil leaned heavy over Clint’s body, hands planted on either side of Clint’s shoulders. Their panting echoed together in the bedroom. Clint’s body bowed to his, holding them both in their cocoon of pleasurable aftershocks. In a half-controlled slump, Phil guided them to curl on their sides, spooning behind his Omega. He kept kissing and licking at Clint’s gland, murmuring half-words into the beautiful golden skin.

Later, he would observe himself in the mirror, not expecting anything outwardly different despite feeling like a whole new person. Low on his hip, Phil would have a mark matching the one on Clint’s neck. Alphas didn’t really have bonding glands, but their bodies usually formed something visible to show they were mated. With scent mingled and birthmarks matched, nothing could connect them closer.

Now, Phil couldn’t stop nudging his lips on Clint’s neck. Clint returned with soft contended sounds. He curled into Phil’s arms, even closer than Phil’s knot would keep them. A single coherent word slipped from Clint’s lips.

“Mine.”


End file.
